


Perfect Match

by notsafeforowls



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Fake Marriage, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 14:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17061425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsafeforowls/pseuds/notsafeforowls
Summary: It's simple: infiltrate the Hendersons' anniversary celebrations by posing as a couple, and find out if they're keeping a monster in their basement.





	Perfect Match

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dirty_diana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirty_diana/gifts).



 

 

i.

 

“You’re joking.”

 

From the look on Ray and Zari’s faces, Mick isn’t the only one who thinks that Nate’s lost it, which is a little insulting considering that Zari’s plan was to pretend to be part of the catering company and that Ray’s plan was to sneak in and hope that no one noticed that they didn’t belong there. At an anniversary party.

 

“What’s so bad about it? I went to college with David and I missed his wedding because we were breaking time.” Nate gestures to the photo of David and Stephen. It’s very possible that he feels a bit guilty about not making it to the wedding and even worse about never having met Stephen. “He sent me an invitation, I can just say that it got lost in the mail and I always intended to attend with my own new husband.”

 

“Sara, please tell Nate that his plan is ridiculous,” Ava says, but her face falls when she sees Sara’s thoughtful expression. “You can’t really be considering this.”

 

Sara holds up her fingers like she’s taking a picture with an imaginary camera as Nate positions himself beside Mick, one hand thrown across Mick’s shoulders, even as Mick tries and fails to shrug him off.

 

“I can see it,” Zari admits. “But you’re not going to let him wear anything out of his own closet, are you? Because Gideon showed me all of it when I was in that simulation and there’s nothing in there that you can wear to a party in a mansion without being thrown out in ten minutes. Gideon, back me up here.”

 

“Of course not, Miss Tomaz. I’m already working on some very fetching suits for Doctor Heywood and Mr Rory.”

 

 

ii.

 

Mick lifts his hand to fidget with his suit jacket again and glares at Nate when he slaps it away.

 

“Leave it,” Nate hisses out of the corner of his mouth as they walk up the long driveway towards the house. “It’s fine, just leave it alone.” And, because he knows exactly what Mick’s going to do next, he adds, “Leave the damn cufflinks alone too.”

 

“Well, this was obviously a great idea.” There’s a distinctive crunch accompanying Zari’s words; if she’s literally eating popcorn while listening in on the mission, Nate’s going to refuse to play any games with her until she apologises. So far, Mick’s spent half an hour complaining about the suit, another forty minutes asking why he’s not allowed to steal certain things from the house (complete with a list), and ten (although Nate’s sure he’ll deny it if Nate ever brings it up) sulking.

 

Mick mutters, “I told you this was a stupid idea,” and goes back to fidgeting, this time with the wedding ring.

 

Nate sighs and decides to just let Mick get on with it – and hope that he doesn’t end up losing the ring or switching it out for someone’s expensive one halfway through the party.

 

He’s not wrong. Ray had even volunteered to pose at Nate’s husband halfway through the complaints about the suit, but he’d been ruled out almost immediately because he couldn’t lie to save his life. In fact, Nate will take an entire evening with Mick trying  _not_  to come off like they’re actually married over Ray trying to lie through a single conversation about it. His cover story with Mick is paper thin, but Nate never wants to hear Ray’s alternative ever again. Just thinking about the singles’ cruise lie is enough to make Nate shudder. No way. He doesn’t even like ships that don’t travel in time. They make him seasick.

 

“It shouldn’t take you too long to get to the basement. When I went in as part of the prep team – who even  _has_  a prep team – it only took me half an hour to get to the basement stairs before someone sent me back to the dining room,” Sara says. “Just stay focused on what you’re there to do and don’t get distracted. You’ll only have to be married for a few hours. Contact us when you know what we’re dealing with.”

 

And Nate’s left with silence. Well, unless he counts the annoyed groan that Mick lets out when the door to the house finally comes into view. It’s less of a door and more of a fancy entranceway. It even puts Nate’s parents’ places to shame, and that’s saying something, because neither side of the family has ever been shy about their big houses, and it shows in the places where his parents stay.

 

“You know, you could at least pretend to be happy. You could be here with anyone, and you got to come with me.”

 

“You want me to tell you that you’re not the worst fake husband in the world?”

 

“Yeah because I’m a great fake husband,” Nate says, before turning to one of the men at the door and saying, “I’m Nathaniel Heywood and this is my husband, Mick Rory. I went to college with the Hendersons.”

 

He blinks at him, confused, obviously caught off guard. “Oh, Doctor Heywood, we weren’t aware that you were attending tonight. The hosts never received your response to their invitation.”

 

“They didn’t?” Nate feigns surprise. Now that he can get a better look, he recognises the man as one of David’s regular security guards at the kind of parties where the jewellery is as expensive as a car. Excellent, that means he knows who Nate is already. “I’m sorry, it must have been lost in the mail. You know what it can be like at this time of year. I’m sure David will understand if I just show up, won’t he?”

 

The security guards exchange glances, most likely silently debating whether they’re going to get fired for letting Nate in, despite knowing that he’s close friends with the host. It takes a few seconds of Nate standing perfectly still and not blinking, even when he catches Mick eyeing the watches on the guards’ wrists, before they’re waved through.

 

“Not bad, Pretty. I’ll make a criminal out of you yet,” Mick says. The blow between Nate’s shoulders is probably supposed to be a friendly pat on the back.

 

 

iii.

 

 

The only thing that Mick has ever liked about rich people is their stuff, and that’s mainly because there’s so much of it that he can steal. He hates their stupid houses with too much security. He hates their expensive alcohol that rarely tastes good enough to justify the price. He hates their expensive clothes and marble floors and their fucking  _tapestries_. They’re always either pretending to be something they’re not, or showing that they’re just as hollow and shallow and shiny as everything they fill their homes with.

 

Nate, on the other hand, fits in a bit too well, if Mick’s honest. He follows Nate through the entrance hall – a fucking  _entrance hall_ – to the massive dining room, hanging back a bit so that he can watch Nate schmooze with the rich idiots like he does this every day. Hell, maybe he did at one point. Mick’s never asked about Nate’s family, and Nate’s never said anything.

 

“Nate! Glad you could make it.” David Henderson breaks away from the people he’s talking to – more rich people, Mick can spot those expensive suits from a mile away – to hug Nate. A few of the people around them shoot him a dirty look. David ignores them. Now that’s interesting. Maybe Mick’s going to get to see something more than potential targets tonight. “How long’s it been now, huh? Ten years?”

 

“Twelve. My twenty-eighth birthday.”

 

There are a few seconds before David groans. “Oh, God, you should have just let me think it was ten. I never want to think about Vegas again. Do you know that Stephen suggested it for our anniversary and I, honest to God, had a flashback to us doing those shots at Lucia’s father’s casino? Stephen, this is Nate, you remember me telling you about Nate, don’t you?”

 

He pulls a man forward who looks about as comfortable in his suit as Mick feels. A quick look at his hand as he and Nate shake hands confirm Mick’s suspicions: this guy’s done a lot of work with his hands, and recently, so he’s definitely not the type to belong here, with a bunch of pampered rich idiots. Another thing that doesn’t fit with David’s nice little projected image.

 

“It’s nice to finally meet the famous travelling historian. David told me that you both studied at Oxford.”

 

Mick has no idea why  _that_  gets the guy a dirty look from a few of the people. Rich people: annoying and weird.

 

“Yeah, we were there at the same time.” Nate grabs Mick’s hand and pulls him forward before Mick can even try to get away. Or get his hand back. “I don’t think I ever got around to telling David about my husband. Mick Rory, meet David and Stephen Henderson. You remember me talking about David, don’t you?”

 

If Nate’s ever mentioned even knowing a David, Mick’s completely missed it. That being said, it’s not like he pays attention to everything that Nate says. Sometimes he’s talking about history. Other times he’s talking about feelings and, really, Mick pays more attention to the history crap unless there isn’t a distraction around.

 

“The Tolkien nerd,” Mick says, more as a guess than anything else, but he’s rewarded by David and Stephen’s faces lighting up while Nate winces and David’s judgemental guests look horrified.

 

He’s surprised when David throws his arms around his and Nate’s shoulders to steer them towards the far side of the room.

 

“Now this,” David grins, “is our kind of guest, Nate. You always did have great taste.”

 

 

iv

 

“So, what exactly do you do on this travelling team of historians?” David asks, three sheets to the wind and having spent most of the evening ignoring everyone but Stephen, Nate, and Mick. He’s a bit of a rich idiot, but Mick can appreciate good company as much as anyone else. Not to mention how easy it’s been to pick the pockets of half the people who have passed while they’ve been desperately trying to get David’s attention. “And how did you two even meet, anyway?”

 

“It’s a funny story. I got a call from a friend of the team, and he told me that they needed someone with wide-ranging historical expertise. A few days later, I’m in the middle of the Atlantic, expecting to find the team. Instead I find Mick, who been working as their bodyguard for a year. He tells me that the team is spread out around the world and we spend the next few weeks rounding everyone else up. By the end of our first flight, he’d already nicknamed me Pretty.”

 

It’s not… wrong, exactly, if Mick blurs the details of how they really did meet and removes the time travel part. He’s just happy that he’s not going to have to pretend to be a historian.  Sure, he’s picked up some stuff from Nate, but it’s too specific and nowhere near in depth enough for him to lie about it being his job for longer than give minutes before anyone with a brain would get suspicious. And these people are almost as smart as they are rich, which is saying something.

 

“And how did you propose?” Stephen’s attention is firmly on Mick and, fuck, Mick’s sure he’s missed something here. Something big. Waverider-sized.

 

“What?”

 

“The proposal,” Nate says, not-so-subtly kicking one of Mick’s ankles. “I told them that you were the one who proposed to me, even though you think marriage is, and I quote, ‘a pile of bullshit.’”

 

It’s a real quote, and no one that Mick’s particularly proud of, even if it is true. He searches for something, anything, that he can turn into a romantic proposal.

 

“Aruba at sunset.” It’s the only thing Mick can think of that isn’t underlined by something depressing, and the only thing that he hasn’t got around to using in one of his books in some shape or form. It’s a nice evening, nothing spectacular, and the kind of thing that he won’t lose a lot from if he can’t use it in the future. “It was raining and this idiot was sitting on the beach because there was a double rainbow.”

 

 

v

 

Nate turns the wedding ring around his finger as he skirts around the edge of the sitting room. It’s been years since he’s visited David’s family home, but it’s just as imposing as he remembers it being. Maybe worse, since it’s been almost as long since he’s had to attend any events with any members of his own family. On the plus side, Mick seems to have managed to find a group that he doesn’t immediately want to escape from. On the confusing side, Nate remembers several of them from when he was younger, and he’s sure that they were members of the science-fiction society that even he had been too ‘cool’ to join.

 

Then again, if his time on the Waverider has taught him anything, it’s that despite all Mick’s complaining about nerds, he’ll usually choose to spend time with them before almost anyone else.

 

Nate makes sure to catch Mick’s eye the next time he looks over, and quickly jerks his head in the direction of the stairs to the basement. Mick doesn’t get a chance to reply before he’s distracted by Stephen shoving a plate of hors d’oeuvres under his nose. Nate doesn’t even bother to wait before he weaves his way around the other guests to slip back into place beside Mick and take his hand.

 

“Sorry, do you mind if I steal my husband for a few minutes? One of those paintings in your hall looks a lot like one that we saw in Florence.” Nate asks, trying not to laugh as Mick takes advantage of the others being distracted to slip some of the food into one of his pockets. There’s probably a lot more in the various hidden pockets that Gideon built into the suit; there always is. The squeeze in return is halfway between thank you for getting me out of there’ and Mick trying to break his hand, and Nate’s not entirely sure which one Mick was going for.

 

“Oh, of course!” David smiles knowingly at them both.

 

 

vi

 

“If you really show me a painting, I better be allowed to steal it or I’ll kill you. They won’t stop talking to me long enough for me to steal anything good.” Mick pulls a watch out of his pocket just enough for Nate to recognise it as belonging to one of the people giving them and Stephen dirty looks all night. “How much do you think this is worth?”

 

“Easily a thousand – my dad got me one for my eighteenth birthday.” It dawns on Nate a second later that he really shouldn’t be admitting this to Mick. He’s never tried to hide that his parents have money, but he’s also never brought it up with anyone unless he absolutely has to. People can be weird about it. People who know his family are weirder, though, and Mick doesn’t even blink

 

“Still think Haircut would’ve been a better choice.”

 

“Relax, you’re doing great. David loves you; it’s going to be really awkward if he ever finds out that we aren’t actually married. I mean, unless he turns out to have a monster locked in his basement, then it’ll just be weird to tell him that before taking him off to the Time Bureau and explaining the entire mess to Av.” Nate all but drags Mick down a narrow corridor that leads to the basement stairs. “Here, cover me.”

 

Mick just stands there looking lost for a few seconds before Nate grabs him and repositions him so that he’s standing right in front of Nate, close enough for Nate to smell his –

 

“Did you use my shower gel?” Nate asks as he carefully slips the key from his pocket with one hand, grabbing a handful of Mick’s suit jacket. With his back to the door and Mick almost completely blocking the view, it’s just going to look like they’re newlyweds playing grab ass because they can’t keep their hands off each other. Perfect.

 

“Didn’t have your name on it.”

 

“What happened to it, and, again, I quote, making me ‘smell like I fucked a florist on the flowers’?” Damn, the lock’s either stiff or their information is wrong and this isn’t the key they need. Hopefully it’s the former because Nate doesn’t want to have to deal with the latter, even if Mick would probably love the excuse to break in and ransack the place.

 

“Still smells like that.” Mick glances back. “Hurry up and get that door open before somebody comes looking for us.”

 

“No one’s going to come looking for us. I’m pretty sure that David and Stephen both think we’re sneaking upstairs to make good use of one of their guest rooms.” He laughs at Mick’s aghast expression. “Come on, Mick, why did you think they were okay with letting you leave when they’ve been keeping tabs on both of us since we got here?”

 

“I thought they were being polite.”

 

“That  _is_  David’s kind of polite. Plus, you were just talking about your romantic proposal under a rainbow earlier.”

 

 The lock finally gives way with a quiet click. Nate lets the door open and pulls Mick through with him.

 

 

vii

 

The sight that greets them when Mick flicks on the lights isn’t what Nate expects. In fact, it’s the exact opposite of what he expects. There’s no monster in the basement, just an entire room lined with a lot of taxidermied animals. Their blank eyes stare as Nate as he and Mick make their way down the stairs.

 

On a table in the middle is a beautifully restored specimen of Stephen’s favourite extinct tiger. Even from a distance, Nate can see where the fire has been carefully touched up to hide or repair damage, and where it has been expertly cleaned.

 

“Is that a big dead cat?” Mick’s not going near it. If anything, he looks like he wants to go back to the party upstairs and never have to look at the thing again.

 

“It’s not a monster. It’s taxidermy.” Nate prods lightly at the fur. It feels so soft, almost as if the tiger might wake up any minute. God, he hopes it doesn’t. That’s all they need. “That’s what he’s been hiding. It’s probably an anniversary project.” With a sigh, he turns the comms back on. “Sara, Zari, are you there?”

 

There’s a sound like someone waking up before Zari mumbles, “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Please tell me you found a monster because Sara and Ava have been cooing over each other all night. Although I suppose the two of you have been doing the same.”

 

“It’s a false alarm, it’s just a dead, stuffed animal,” Mick says still standing at the top of the stairs.

 

“Well, that’s morbid. I’m going to go and tell Sara and Ava that your friend’s just weird, not hiding any of the monsters Constantine thinks we released,” Zari says, and then the comms go silent.

 

 

viii

 

“It’s kind of romantic when you think about it,” Nate says as they slip out the back door. “Not the dead creature in the basement, that’s a bit weird even for me, but secretly restoring a taxidermied version of the person you love’s favourite extinct animal? That’s the kind of love that you live and die for.”

 

Mick shrugs, throwing his suit jacket over his shoulder and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. “It’s stupid. All that secrecy, all the sneaking around, just to give somebody a present. Why bother? Just tell him what you’re doing and you won’t have to smuggle things around like they’re illegal. Surprises are stupid.”

 

“So I  _shouldn’t_  surprise you for our first anniversary then?” Nate grins; Mick shoves at his arm, but it’s not hard enough to hurt. “Come on, your description of the wedding was beautiful.”

 

“Wasn’t mine. Lisa used to talk about what kind of wedding she wanted when she was a kid, so I just stole her description. Anyway, what about when we first met?”

 

“What about it? It was a memorable experience, that's all. And that proposal you pulled out of the bag? Very nice. And the double rainbow was worth sitting in the rain for, you and you know it. You are a very good fake husband, Mick. I’d marry you.”

 

“You’d marry anybody who said they loved you, Pretty.” Mick’s already beginning to empty his pockets, offering anything he doesn’t like the look of as much as he did before to Nate, and then throwing it off onto the perfectly manicured lawn if Nate doesn’t want it. “I wouldn’t marry you. Too many surprises. Too many rich snobs.”

 

Nate takes the next thing that Mick holds out to him. It’s a fork, probably an antique, likely a gift from one of David and Stephen’s snobby guests, intended to remind them that David’s family’s wealth only goes back one generation and that Stephen’s has none at all. He weighs it carefully in his hands for a few seconds.

 

And then he throws it as hard as he can, so that it disappears into the shadow of the trees.


End file.
